


Please, Don’t Go. Don’t Leave Me

by howlingstiles



Series: Cluster of Collisions [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 04, Angst, Eichen | Echo House, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slightly Graphic talks of Rape, Talks of Rape, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, a little fluff, heed the warnings, slightly graphic violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 22:22:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8303371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howlingstiles/pseuds/howlingstiles
Summary: Stiles took a shower with him and didn’t push too hard when the first signs of withdrawal showed, just collected new clothes and brought lots of water and protein bars into the room. Getting Peter settled he stood again, Peter squeezed his arm with flashing nails and eyes. Peter spoke his first words since Stiles rescued him, “Please, don’t go. Don’t leave me.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Heed the warnings, I may not think the descriptions of violence and talk of rape/non-con are explicit. It could still make someone squeamish.

Peter knew he got what was coming to him. Doesn’t make it any easier to handle. The orderlies dosed him up to the nines with wolfsbane and sedatives. Valack was walking free with that third eye of his ripped out. He heard a Banshee has been emitted. Peter wonders if it was Lydia. His nurse was friends with the one that tortured and beat Stiles. After spending a few weeks with him, Peter knew he was no better than Brunski. He was experimented on since he had no one waiting on him, and that hurt more than it should. His niece and nephew are out living life again and he’s stuck here because he was being controlled and had no choice but to obey the woman that killed his family.

He knew Scott got Derek to sign off on the papers. He wondered if Derek feels remorse knowing that his uncle is right back where he was after the fire. That letting his dick do his thinking is what lead his uncle down this path. He wonders how Cora is escaping the Hale pack while she still could. If she got word of his amendment in this hellhole.

The only good thing about this trainwreck of a resurrection was meeting the spitfire Stiles Stilinski.

He remembers nights of research and planning spent together, Stiles never letting his guard down but letting him see the things he’d be locked up for. The way his morals went would’ve had everyone but his father leaves him. Stiles would go on rants when Scott would let the bad guy go, letting Gerard go, letting Deucalion go when he was the reason Boyd and Erica are dead. But they were crippled and that was enough of a lesson learned for runt Alpha. Peter remembers providing for Stiles in the simplest ways it wouldn't be detected by Derek or the Banshee, a sweatshirt that was Peter’s offered during the colder nights in the preserve or loft, dinner and coffee always being welcomed for the boy, and more. He always figured it out, Peter didn’t mind when it got Stiles to smile a soft smile and go a little squinty eyed.

Well, he remembers when he can. He sleeps so often these days he’s beginning to lose himself.

Then again in his dreams, he’s with Stiles, so it’s not too bad.

Dream Stiles would be with him in the preserve. Sometimes Peter was a wolf or as a man, both forms were always bony and thin. Stiles would always come in a smoke shadow of trees, he would slide on the ground until he was next to Peter. Stiles wouldn’t talk, just walk with him or sit with him. Always watching their backs. He would smile at Peter when Peter was having a better week and could use his vocal cords for something other than near-silent screaming.

Dream Stiles always looks so sad, so upset when he sees Peter that Peter wants nothing more than to rip apart the asylum containing him to get to him. To see if real Stiles is as upset as dream Stiles. And if he is, Peter will wreck havoc on the world for the outsider of a pack that uses him until he’s dry to smile again. He wonders if Stiles will kill him for how far he would go for him, or use him.

And then Peter remembers that Stiles wouldn’t do that to him, not after they’ve both been played several times by Scott McCall.

Peter is brought his musing when the door to his cell is opened by his nurse. All the nurses have the same sadistic glee in their eyes with syringes full of wolfsbane and other sedatives in their hands. But something’s not right today, there’s a shadow that’s sliding in past the door and up to the ceiling. Vintor approaches unaware of the shadow trailing on the ceiling behind him.

“My favorite patient. Always defiant and in need of being put in his place, isn’t that right Peter?” No, that isn’t right, Peter stopped fighting them months ago. But the nurses don’t care, Peter’s watched the negative energy of Eichen house push energy into the already shitty workers and make them unbearable. They can say whatever they want about their patients hurting them and there’s no need of proof of marks or video footage. They have the free pass to do what they want. Peter is no longer able to heal with his werewolf gene, so his thin body can’t replenish itself. No longer can he heal minor injuries like injection wounds or taser wounds.

Vintor dropped his tray onto the bed next to him and grabbed his arm and yanked his sleeve up. The scratch marks Peter left from the new hallucination drug he’s been given shown it hadn’t ended well for him.

Vintor eyes took darkened in glee. He looked away after opening some of the scabs up to grab a needle. “Loverboy came up again asking for you. Tall, pale and covered in moles. We keep telling him you’re still being worked into a schedule but. He’s. Just. Not. Buying. It. We tried to look him up but there was nothing there. No records as to who he is, any image we can get of him is blurred beyond belief even with him standing still.”

Vintor dropped the syringe and picked it back up and readied it without cleansing. “I think he’s got magic in him. Some of the boys think so too. We’ve been thinking about bringing him in and seeing if we can take him apart. I mean, he has to love cock right? He wouldn’t be visiting you if he didn’t. Right?” Vintor continued to taunt as he dragged the edge of the needle into his arm. He paused then smiled a wide smile that looked painful, he leaned in close and said into Peter’s ear, “Maybe we’ll do it in front of you. Make you watch as we use him for all he’s worth and crying out for you to help. Would you like that? I bet he looks so _pretty_ when he cries.”

Peter didn’t take the bait.

He really wanted to. The longer Vintor’s talking the more aware Peter’s becoming and less drugged. He _might_ be able to rip the vile being’s head off become rounds of bullets end him.

Vintor went to say more when the shadow fell from the ceiling and wrapped almost translucent fingers around his neck and yanked him into the air. Vintor went to scream, his eyes were near popping out of his head when an increasingly human hand wrapped firmly around his throat. Peter’s not sure if he’s hallucinating again or sleeping at this point. He’s pretty sure he’s hallucinating because Stiles is currently painting the walls of his cell with his nurse.

Maybe he’s imagining Stiles rescuing him again.

Smoky tendrils swirled around Stiles as he stepped forward and looked at Peter with narrowed worried eyes. A hand cupped Peter’s cheek and he purred lowly when the scent of petrichor and moonlight filled his nose. He blinked at Stiles with bleary eyes when the boy laughed.

_Stiles. The boy really did come._

“As much as I love to see you cuddly, Eichen House isn’t the place for that. Come on big guy, we got places to be.” With that, Stiles pulled Peter up and supported him out the cell. In this state Peter was no match in a fight. He didn’t need to pep talk himself into getting a grip, Stiles had already made an exploded eviscerated mess of everyone on his way to him.

Stiles walked without a glance at the bodies if you could call them bodies, he left in the halls. Once they got out the supernatural ward Peter took notice of the silence that they were met in the halls. Even the most damaged predators and prey could sense and hear the threat Stiles made of himself.

What happened to his boy while he was here?

Stiles lead them out the front doors and the steps without a single complaint about the dead weight he was carrying. Just smiled and beckoned Peter along, and they are going to have _words_ about this after they escape and Peter regains the ability to talk.

He knows Stiles as well as he knows himself. He knows Stiles would’ve broken him out ages ago if they were going to stay in Beacon Hills. If Peter had to guess, Stiles took the time to strengthen himself and find a place for them to call home, and then warded said place until no one could find them. All of which Stiles had to do without causing suspicion.

The van they get to has a bed nailed into the ground and pillows and blankets spread into a messy circle, on top. Which smells of the faint mixture of _Peter and Stiles_. There are a little stove top and sink where a door should be, some clothes were thrown towards the foot of the bed. Peter sat on the bed before jerking up and pulling out what he sat on. Peter blinked. It was a stick with a button on the end. He turned it over on its side and squinted at it while Stiles hopped into the front.

Peter blinked again. It was a button to a bomb.

Stiles jerked the van into gear and reached back for it with sticky bloody fingers. Peter handed it over and watched Stiles blow up a mental hospital full of innocents without a care in the world. Stiles hit the gas and floored it with a wild, relieved grin on his face. Peter had to grab onto the bed with bitten down nails.

When Peter saw the “ _You’re Now Leaving California_ ” sign, he relaxed and changed out his prison wear for clothes that smelt of Stiles. Peter contemplated the bed before he bypassed it and climbed into the passenger seat. Stiles rolled his eyes and grabbed a blanket and tossed it around him. When he reached out with shaking hands Stiles met him halfway and gripped his hand tight, getting blood everywhere.

They were quiet for a long time.

When they passed the fifth state border, a night later Stiles said, “Soon you’re going to go through withdrawal. I’m betting we get home before then.” And they were quiet once again. Hands gripped firmly.

They did end up making it to their home.

It was secluded like the old Hale house, still close to civilization to not cause suspicion. It was a long shaker styled house with a wrap around deck that to the untrained eye were decorated beautifully but was littered in runes and sigils. It was breathtaking. Stiles ushered him inside and to the bedroom at the heart of the home on the second floor. There weren’t too many many windows, but from the ones Peter saw he’d guess were as bulletproof as they legally could be. And then some.

Stiles took a shower with him and didn’t push too hard when the first signs of withdrawal showed, just collected new clothes and brought lots of water and protein bars into the room. Getting Peter settled he stood again, Peter squeezed his arm with flashing nails and eyes. Peter spoke his first words since Stiles rescued him, “Please, don’t go. Don’t leave me.”

Stiles scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I haven’t gotten dressed yet. I’m not playing on staying in my towel or going nude. And I need to bring the stuff from the van inside. I’ll be gone for five minutes, Peter. I know you need me right now but I need to make sure we’re safe. Okay?” Stiles kissed his forehead and murmured, “Watch the clock, if I’m not back in five minutes come get me yourself and I’ll stay in this bed no matter what,” onto it.

Stiles had to coax more reassurances before Peter allowed him to leave. Even then Stiles had to gently pry Peter’s fingers off his arm that had little bloody streaks on it. Not three minutes later Stiles was back. Stiles applied bandages to his arm on the way to Peter, boxers shimmied on seconds before flopping onto the bed.

“See told you I’ll be back.” Stiles snark. Peter grumbled. He nuzzled into Stiles’ chest and relaxed to the sound of his heartbeat. His body had started to shake and he was getting sweaty.

Stiles didn’t complain, only ran his fingers through Peter’s long hair and said, “Yeah, yeah, I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you think, and I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
